


All That Is Thirst

by e_mors



Series: Make It Good [12]
Category: Actor RPF, Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-22 03:03:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14299380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/e_mors/pseuds/e_mors
Summary: We are still in the aftermath. Both of them reflect on what happened and what's next.





	All That Is Thirst

He falls asleep in my arms. I try to shift a little, just enough to hold him while still being able to see his face. I kissed that face just minutes ago, I licked and sucked these lips for hours today, his skin is still a little red from my beard and it makes me smile.

My hand wanders lazily from his neck to his back. I stroke his spine up and down and I hope the rhythm will soothe me enough to drift off. And then I trace the curve of his ass and it jolts my mind back to full attention, wondering how it would feel to enter him, be inside him. I want him whole, all the time. I want to devour him, claim him, give him such unsurpassed pleasure that it will carve my name in his mind for the rest of his life.

He sighs through his sleep and moves away from me as if he heard my thoughts and got scared of my possessiveness.

I get up and go to the kitchen for the glass of water. Each time I pass this little space I picture the moment - the one time only - he told me he loved me. It was right here, in this apartment. He said it without warning and it felt like the abrupt relief of waking up from a bad dream. Like one minute I was drowning and the next I was safe and sound in my bed, just by the spell of these words. I know he meant it then. But I have no certainty of what he feels now.

His mood swings don’t worry me. He flips from one extreme to another in the span of seconds but that just means he cares. I like it when he gets angry at me, I love it even. It’s his silence that stabs me in the heart. The hesitation that crosses his face sometimes. I get nervous when he’s overthinking, weighing options, considering outcomes. Maybe because this is what I should be doing. But more because I know he’s smart enough to realise that for him there is a way out of this. That it’s him who’s dealing the cards here, I’m just a fool at his mercy.

Elizabeth, on the other hand, is merciless. She went straight for the jugular, where she knew would hurt me the most. She attacked him instead of me. That tells me she won’t play fair and I know what this means.

All of this slowly sinks in. I don’t know what I’m scared of more. Elizabeth’s wrath or this silently creeping feeling that Tim might not love me as much as I love him.

I go back to bed, I need to sleep at least a little. Tomorrow is the judgement day. The thought of leaving his side makes me quiver but I have no choice. I need to go there and try to reason with her, try to make her understand, negotiate, find a solution.

But for now, while I still can, I snuggle into him, nestle my face in his neck and try to find comfort in his body and its strength. I love it. I need it like air.

I listen to his steady breathing and allow it to lull me to sleep.

 

_______

 

I wake up covered in sweat.

I had a nightmare. I had a feeling that something was missing, but I didn’t know what, so I couldn’t look for it, I could do nothing but panic from the helplessness.

I try to move but I find myself engulfed by him, and I realise the sweat might not be the result of the nightmare but of the heat coming off of his body. I feel our skin is glued together and I start to feel uneasy.

I don’t know how I feel about any of this anymore.

When I wanted him, I wanted him badly. It was eating me up from the inside and I couldn’t think about anything else. But now that I have him, I don’t know if it’s worth it. All this pain, the dread of ruining so many lives.

I feel the weight of his body pressed to mine and it suddenly suffocates me. I try to free myself from his limbs, from his head plastered to my neck. I can’t breathe.

Finally I manage to get up and I’m stunned he doesn’t wake up from my not so gentle pushing and shoving.

I check the clock and it’s 6 in the morning, so my sleeping patterns haven’t changed. I decide to take a shower.

As the water hits my back I try not to think about anything for at least a minute, but my mind goes to him on its own will.

He flies back home tonight, „to sort everything out”. In a week I will be gone to London to prepare for my next project. I can’t wrap my head around how exactly I am going to focus on work with all this shit going on but I decide to worry about it later. Right now I can’t even imagine a best case scenario for us. He leaves Elizabeth, we somehow manage to keep this private. But for the next months I am in London and he’s here, and then probably another wave of projects will sweep us apart, so how is this supposed to work?

I can’t shake off Elizabeth’s words. She’s right, it is a fantasy. We are being delusional.

Worst of all, he’s weak. I can see that clearly. His marriage to her makes so much sense to me now. But as I ponder on it, an unwanted thought hits me and settles inside my brain. That maybe, just maybe, it is his weakness that pushes Elizabeth to be the controlling one. It’s so easy for me to imagine that just in few years time I turn into the same person that he’s running away from today and the cycle will repeat itself. Because throughout all of this I certainly feel I need to be strong, stronger than him.

I wanted to test him yesterday. I wanted to burden him with my doubts and see his reaction. If I have to carry his divorce on my shoulders, maybe he should share the weight of my guilt too? I’m pretty sure it would knock him down.

But he kissed me and kept kissing me and I failed to resist yet again.

His thirst is intoxicating, I can’t get enough of it. He kisses like he wants to swallow me, suck in my insides and chew it all up. He kisses like there is nothing else in existence and the taste of my body is the only thing he needs to survive. It makes me doubt him even more. Maybe desire is all that drives him. Not love but the craving for my body makes him all woozy, stupid, irresponsible. A drug that ultimately destroys him like any other narcotic.

As if on cue I feel his hands sneaking around me from behind and then his whole body pressing to my back. His lips on my neck, his arms around my chest, his cock hard already. My head falls back on his shoulder as I gasp.

This is home.

As I turn around to kiss him it’s clear to me that I’ve been fooling myself thinking that I can let this feeling go. And why should I sacrifice this love? What for?

Maybe we are both addicts.

He lifts me up and I wrap my legs around his waist and throw my arms around his neck. I kiss him with all I have, like there is no tomorrow.

Because I can’t shake the feeling that this might be our last time.

„I want you inside of me.” I mumble through the water into his open lips, thinking:  _I’ll make it so sweet, baby, it will make you remember from your head to your feet._

**Author's Note:**

> The song Timmy paraphrases at the end is, YES, [Make It Good](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jH5bgGy_daQ) by Fink. 
> 
> The title is from [a song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IRJa_8aDZkk) by Pati Yang.
> 
> Again - THANK YOU GUYS for reading, leaving kudos and commenting. I appreciate all of it.


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